


The Defiance of Death

by Prumery



Category: Hades (Video Game 2018), Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Other, fast and wild with canon babEH, there are ocs in the beginning but after that there are mostly canon characters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-17 04:54:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29344707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prumery/pseuds/Prumery
Summary: Etzli Moreno likes melon Agua Fresca, and pomegranate and white chocolate cookies. He likes his Mama, he likes Mr.Imura, and he likes his stuffed dog, Mancha.Etzli Moreno wonders, at times,who his father is, and if he knows that he can't walk very well. Would he still like him then?Etzli wonders a lot of things. Especially why there are monsters chasing him, and why people with strange powers keep giving him blessings.
Relationships: Annabeth Chase/Percy Jackson, Thanatos/Zagreus (Hades Video Game)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 16





	The Defiance of Death

**Author's Note:**

> THIS IS EXTREMELY SELF INDULGENT  
> im having a bad time™, so i decided to write something sweet about a character and my two comfort universes.  
> so here you go. i offer you this  
> its not good but i still give it to you

Eztli Moreno wishes that he was normal.

The sky is dark above him in a way that tells him that the sun is about to come up. Breathing in, he can taste the fresh fruit that Mr.Imura is probably picking early in the morning. He knows that Mr.Imura probably has those silly Hello Kitty gloves on that he’s so attached to.

Eztli always found it weird that Mr.Imura could grow anything, and everything, and know when his plants were ready for harvesting, so maybe Eztlie was normal compared to him.

But he still wasn’t. 

He hears the neighbors boy start to move pots and pans together, and he knows that later, Miguel will probably try to steal his favorite shirt from the clothesline. He knows his Mama won’t let him, as she might be sick and slow, but he’s good at flicking rocks to little scoundrels.

Eztli isn’t allowed to play outside in the sun. His mother always told him that if he did, his legs would get worse. He didn’t want his legs worse, since they were already wrapped in red bandages and had metal casings on them, so he listened.

Eztlie wishes he was normal. He would be able to play outside with Mr.Imura, instead of training with him when the sun finally blinked goodbye, and fell to the night.   
The night keeps you safe, Eztli. You’ll understand later, when you’re older,  _ mijo _ .

Mr.Imura was a silly man with a silly leather jacket. Eztli always thought the dogs on the butter soft leather were cool, though, so there is that going for him.

“Eztli! Eztli, come inside! It’s almost light!”

Eztli sits up from the soft daffodils underneath him. They’re his favorite, and the softest spots are always around them. Gently, he braces himself on his leg braces, and stands, hobbling over to his mother, as she smiles at him.

The light glows off the pomegranate red of her hair. Her eyes are a pretty, pretty shade of brown, almost yellow. Eztli loves his Mama very much, no matter if the kids in his village call her names for having a funny eyed bastard like him.

It hurts to see how sick his Mama is. It hurts to see that she sometimes stares at the seat at the end of the table, and Eztli wonders what kind of man his Father was.

He hopes he was a good man.

“Eztli,” She sighs into his inky black hair, and he wraps his arms around her. She smells like pomegranate juice, and he knows that there are pomegranate-white chocolate cookies on the stove.

Today must be a good day, because she only makes that when she’s feeling her best. Her delicious cookies, and the yummy melon water that she only knows how to make.

“Mama, I want  _ agua fresca _ ,” He says, looking up at her with the mismatched eyes that people make fun of.

HIs mother never said anything bad about it. Always said his brown eye was so dark it was red. A pretty shade, a lovely shade. Like his father’s own mismatched eyes.

“Melon?”

“ _ Si _ , Mama,”

She sits him down at her table, and sets out his favorite bread, his favorite drink. She presses a gentle kiss to his head, and he smiles wide as she pulls down the curtains and blocks the sun from looking at him, from touching his skin.

“I will be back before you wake up, okay? If anything happens--”

“--scream for Mr.Imura. I got it, Mama,” He smiles at her as she grins wide at him. At her hips, she has two baskets of freshly baked bread, and cookies. With a grunt, she heaves it into her hands and she goes to the market for the day.

Eztli is left alone to finish his sweets and go to his bed.

Mancha, his stuffed dog with three heads, stares at him. The kids would make fun of him because of his stuffed animal, telling him that only demon dogs have three heads.

But Mancha has never been mean to him. Mancha has never bit him, never made him feel bad because he can’t run like the rest of the kids.

Cuddling close into sheets that still are warm from his mother, and smelling of cookies, Eztli closes his eyes, and sleeps.

* * *

His dream starts like this.

There is a large, deep red pool of something warm around him. It’s not deep, though, as he wades gently through it, feeling the thick liquid dripping down his hands and chest. 

He is wearing a brace on his right arm. He doesn’t recognize the pretty gold there, but the green jewels look like the ones he finds around his home sometimes.

Everytime he finds them, his Mama squeeks happily, and they eat very well for the next couple of days. He has always been very good at finding things.

“Thanatos!”

A giant voice reverberates through the entire room, but whoever Eztli is inhabiting isn’t afraid.

“Master,”

“Do you have any news from your cousin?”

The body he is in bows, and he sees his reflection in a mirror beside a sleeping figure to his left.

He is pretty, Eztli thinks. His eyes are almost the same shade as his mother’s, and his skin is darker than his and his mother’s.

The man is gorgeous, though. With a pretty, lean jaw and short, cropped white hair. Eztli prays, then and there, that if he ever becomes handsome, that he’ll look like this man.

The figure that was asleep a moment ago looks at the person, Thanatos, he’s guessing, and smiles at him. His eyes match Thanatos’, but much sleepier. His frantic curls are only calmed down by an eye cover, and Etzli feels like he knows him.

“Hello, brother,”

“She has said that the woman is fine. She has also asked us a favor,”

The man turns back to the booming voice, and sees a giant man looking down at him. His hair is long, and black, and his fingers are covered in bright and pretty rings that cost a million times more than anything Eztli has seen.

“Hm? A favor? Does she have a payment for said favor?”

“She wishes to keep her with her. After a certain amount of time, she hopes to use one of her reincarnations to have her be her main priestess,”

The giant man makes a face, but it’s not unkind. He seems almost impressed.

“That is a lot to say for a human,”

“Especially to our cousin in the South. She is known to be rather… impulsive,” The sleepy man giggles to himself, using a quill to write on a clipboard, and Thanatos makes a sound at the back of his throat.

What is up with that name, Eztli says to himself, trying to figure out where that name is from. It’s not Spanish, and it’s not native to his Nahuatl tongue. But something about it is familiar.

“What does she wish to give?”   
That makes Thanatos feel a little gleeful. Eztli is surprised, because the man he is inhabiting seems to be stoic and unfeeling.

“She wishes to give you a milenia of servitude. To help with the paperwork, and to be able to see her when she comes,”

The man strokes his hand over his long, long hair. Almost as if he was missing something on his face. 

The man has pretty eyes, eyes so dark brown they’re almost red. He feels intimidating, but not in a bad way, almost like looking to a parent who you know can kick anyone's butt. His hands are manicured, and pretty, with deep, blood red nail polish.

There are pomegranates on a small bowl beside him.

“Hm… That does sound helpful. After the stunt Nico’s little crush pulled, the shades have been distraught,”

He says that, but there is no malice in his face. There’s a smile there, and the sleepy man laughs softly beside him.

“Who would’ve thought Poseidon’s little swimmer was so good at fighting for us,”

There is a murmur of agreement between the three of them, and Eztli is again surprised at such a weird name.

They must be American, Eztli thinks to himself, staring down at the spiked bracers, and listening to the strange words they're saying. Their clothes are also much darker, different than the brightness of Chula Vista.

The man he inhabits wears a tank top that has skulls all around it. Tight leather jeans and combat boots that have spikes on them. Compared to his shoulder piece, he looks like he stepped out of the catalogues Mr.Imura likes to read.

Sleep looks much more casual. He dresses in loose fitting sweatpants, and a large pink shirt covered in pretty red poppies. A matching red, fluffy blanket is laying on him, and as he fixes his fluffy red sheep slippers, Eztli realizes he’s floating.

“After the party, they were much nicer, But that Percy fellow. He is kind, and I hope he’s breaking through Lord Zeus’ barriers,”

The large man hums as Thanatos grows closer, putting down a box. On the top is a stamp that looks like the statue his mother prays to.

“Let us hope for the best. And call her, Muerte. I will sign up a contract for her as soon as she is available,”

Before the dream ends, he feels Thanatos’ face light up into a smile.

“Of course, Lord Hades,”

* * *

“Mr.Imura?”

It’s a couple of days after his dream. It was a strange dream, he knew, but what was stranger was that he felt like he knew those people.

Eztli stares at the man as he looks up from his garden. Surrounding the older asian man, there are berries and fruit and veggies that never give up on him. Eztli has always found it funny that no matter what Mr.Imura does, his food never dies, and his hands are always covered in manure and those Hello Kitty gloves he never parts with.

Mr.Imura is a strange man.

“Yes? Is the fighting style not working for you?” He says, standing up and wiping his hands on his khakis.

Eztli shakes his head as he puts his staff down. The lights are bright outside, especially because Eztli is not allowed out in the sun. His squints over at the tall man, and Eztli thinks back at his dream.

Mr.Imura is definitely not taller than the man on the throne.

“Then what is wrong,  _ mijo _ ?”

Eztli sighs, sitting down on the bench, and staring down at the braces on his legs. Today, he’s wearing the red metal braces. They’re his favorite, because they are covered in pretty flowers, and shine a little gold in the light.

“Was… Was my Dad a good person?” He says softly, looking up at Mr.Imura, who hums softly, and sits down beside him.

The garden is huge. Bright green compared to the little hut Mr.Imura lives in. There are fat strawberries wrapped around the home, and Eztli licks his lips at the idea of strawberry jam that Mr.Imura likes to make.

“He was good to me. He was kind to everyone he met, even if he could have a bit of a temper on him,” He laughs softly, and sighs, staring down at the gloves. Squeezing his hands closed, he looks over at Eztli, who is staring up at him.

“He would fight in fights all the time. Everything came natural to him, but only because of his own Master. He taught him very well,”

“But that doesn’t make him a good person,”

A laugh.

“No it doesn’t. But, every time he passed by this fight, he would always come up to me, and tell me that he appreciated my support. Even though he didn’t know my name at the time, just that I liked him as a fighter,”

Mr.Imura’s eyes look sad. His bright orange hair falls over his shoulder, and Eztli realizes that the leather jacket matches the man’s orange hair.

“He would always stop to say hi?”

“Yes. He also incredibly respected the Bull. Told him that he respected him as a fighter, no matter what he said,”

Eztli looks over the bushes, seeing the fat blueberries twinkle at him from the water left on them. They are ready to be harvested, but he knows that he won’t be asked to help.

“Do you think he would’ve liked me?”

Mr.Imura reaches over, wraps his arm around him, and presses a kiss to his head. Eztli has tears rolling down his cheeks, and he hates to admit that he needed that hug.   
“He would’ve adored you, Etzli. I just know it,”

The world is quiet as Eztli cries his heart out, wishing that Mr.Imura knew how much that actually meant, and that maybe, if Mr.Imura stayed, he wouldn’t need his Dad.

* * *

His Mama is the best woman ever.

Her pretty necklace shines bright yellow in the light. Eztli had always thought it was funny that she wore such an old necklace. It was bent a little at the edges from his biting, since the gold was so soft. His mother had always put a hand on it, sighing gently when she thought of his dad. It was the shape of a shield, and she always said that it was supposed to keep them safe.

He really didn’t believe her, but she always laughed when he said as such.

Eztli stares up at her as he eats, humming along to the recorder. Mancha sits quietly beside him, and as she walks by, his Mama lets her hand go over his big head, and pat the stuffed animal.

“The light is almost down. Are you going to want to train with Mr.Imura?”

Eztli looks up at his Mama, his mouth full of food, and he blinks. For a second, he thinks that he should stay home. He should stay home, and enjoy his time with his mother. She was very sickly, and soon enough, he wouldn’t have time with her.

But she smiles, and the feeling goes away.

“Yes, Mama,”   
“The sun comes up at 6;57, so try to be here before that, okay?”

Her long pomegranate hair curls over his shoulders as she kisses his head. Eztli smiles up at him, finishes his food and bounds over the bushes, and flowers to Mr.Imura’s home.

Mr.Imura looks over to him, smiling wide at the little boy, his Hello Kitty gloves specially dirty today. 

“Mr.Imura!” Eztli looks up at him, grinning wide as the man hands him a staff. The man smiles back at him, his dimpled cheeks and wrinkles reminding Eztli that maybe he doesn’t have a lot of time with anyone.

For some reason, that doesn’t scare him. His Mama had a statue of Santa Muerte by their door, and everyday she would leave a little piece of bread into the fire that burned there. Along with flowers, and coins, and those pretty green jewels his Mama finds.

His Mama tells him that long ago, when he was a baby, Santa Muerte fed him from her own bosom to awaken him. Eztli had been dead when he was born, and the reason his Father left was out of grief, rampaging as he left the home he made for him and Mama.

As Eztli hugs Mr.Imura, he closes his eyes and sighs gently. Death was scary, since all he had left was Mr.Imura and his Mama. But the wonderful stories Mama told of  _ Elysio _ , and how one day, they would reunite around a wonderful land of grass and harmony, it made him less worried about the future.

“Is something on your mind,  _ mijo _ ?” 

Eztli looks up at Mr.Imura, and smiles wide at him.

“Nothing is on my mind, Mr.Imura. I just love you very much,”

The man's face contorts into something that Eztli doesn’t understand. And as they’re training, he denies seeing Mr.Imura wipe his eyes angrily with his Hello Kitty gloves.

* * *

Mr.Imura had set down a plate full of pomegranates covered in salt and lemon. Eztli was overjoyed at the snack after training, so he dug in quickly, licking his lips at the salt, and staring at Mr.Imura as he walked around the home, putting things away.

His home was small. It was comfortable, and warm, and smelled like dew and oranges. Mr.Imura’s orange hair glowed when he walked past the fire, and for a second, Eztli thought he saw through him.

How strange.

“Mr.Imura. What did you do before you moved here?”

The man hums softly, looking up into the ceiling, and tracing the cracks there. Vines drip down from there, and he gently nicks a strawberry from the vine. Carefully, he washes it in the sink, and bites into the soft, fat strawberry, letting the juices run down his chin.   
“I was a spectator to a giant battle. Between your Father and giant man,” He laughs softly, and finishes his strawberry.   
“You worked at a WWE fighting club?”

“You can say that, yes,” He laughed again, then put his head in his hands. Mr.Imura was much older than his mom, but didn’t look like it. He said that he was lucky to be alive, because he too had to go through a lot to be here.

“Your Father always fought the Bull and the Blond one. Always beat them, but even so, he was always kind to the Bull.

The Bull had not been treated well, yet your father respected him. Appreciated his efforts as a fighter,”

“Will I ever meet the Bull? Or the Blond one?” 

The look that Mr.Imura gave him was once that shocked Eztli. Deep in his caramel eyes, there was a look of fear. One that Eztli didn’t understand.

“I hope that day doesn’t come,  _ mijo _ ,”

The moment is gone before Eztli can say anything, and Mr.Imura pulls off another fat strawberry from the vine.

There is a notification on Mr.Imura’s phone that Eztli can’t read, and the man hums.   
“Head home, Eztli. The sun will be up in a couple of minutes. Best you get your rest and then we start practice tomorrow,”   
Eztli smiles wide and throws himself off his chair. His leg braces squeak slightly as he takes off, grinning wide as he grabs a basket of strawberries and awkwardly moves through the house to go to his home.

Opening his door, he heads across the bushes, and across the threshold of his home. He knows his Mama must be there, and he hopes that she is, because the strawberries are one of her favorites.

She is on the sofa as he walks over, and he sets the strawberries down on the table. Not before adding one to the burning cauldron of the Santa Muerte altar.

“Mama! Mama, I have brought strawberries!”   
His mother is quiet as he turns around. Her body is limp on the sofa, and Eztli stares at her, his smile slowly fading. In her hand, the necklace that looks like a shield is dangling from her fingers.

Her lips are blue.

“... Mami?” He whispers softly, and stares at the shield as it falls down to the ground. Her chest doesn’t rise as he stares at it. There is no movement in her pretty yellow eyes, and Eztli feels his entire world shake.

And then his entire world shakes.

Eztli let’s out a wail, heartbroken as he runs to his mother. He shakes her, screaming ‘Mama’ over and over, hoping that she’s just asleep.

She’s just asleep.

Death isn’t so scary until he has to see it in front of him.

As he lets out another screech, he hears someone match it. Outside, the Sun starts to come up, and without warning, the entire side of his home is blown away. Tears and snot are still dripping down his face as he turns to look at the ripped open part of his home.

There, a tall woman wearing a bright, electric green dress, and holding a long whip that curls around her. Smoke comes up from around her, blowing up her seaweed blond hair.   
**“M-murrrrr…. Murrr--rrderrr,”**

A deep, echoing voice fills his ears. Eztli stares at the monster with wide eyes, gripping his mother’s body tighter, and feeling tears drip down his face.

“W-who are you?”

The woman doesn’t answer. Her green flapper dress makes a whooshing noise as she runs towards him, and that’s when Eztli notices the electric yellow converse sneakers she wears.

Eztli lets out a scream, sticking his face into his Mother’s cold body, and wishing that the world would go away.

“EZTLI!”

Mr.Imura appears before him, and Eztli hears a sickening crunch. Looking up, Mr.Imura’s leather jacket is glowing, and he is shaking out his left hand, grunting awkwardly at the pain flaring up from the punch.   
“Eztli, Eztli, look at me,” He says, getting down on his knees, and staring at the little boy. He hands him Mancha, and a backpack covered in poppies. He feels like the poppies are familiar, but he can’t say anything about it as the man cups his face and looks at him.

“Eztli, you gotta run,  _ mijo _ , you gotta run, and you gotta run far!” He blinks at him, and the woman lets out a screech again. The sun is coming over the horizon, and Eztli is shaking in his hands.   
“Mama is dead! Mama is dead, i have to stay!”   
“No, you can't! Listen to me,” He stares deep into his mismatched eyes, and Mr.Imura softens as he sees the tears.   
“You have to run. There is everything you need in the Chthonic purse, you have to run. You have to find the man on the motorcycle. You have to get to the ocean, to the east, please… Please  _ mijo, _ you have to--”   
Another scream, and Mr.Imura’s face hardens.

“Go,”

He stands up, and Eztli looks up at him. Mr.Imura’s brown eyes blaze orange as he taps his fists together, and the Hello Kitty gloves let out a loud yowling noise and suddenly, two large fists appear.

The paws look absolutely monstrous. The claws are tinted gold, and they look like they were cut off from a large leopards hands.

Mr.Imura cracks his neck, then tugs on his jacket. The leather jacket flickers, and suddenly a long, beautiful coat covers him. It shimmers, and even though the sun is twinkling hard over head, the shawl swims in the darkest shade of night Eztli has ever seen.

**“M..mmmmurrddd---”**

The monster stands up on her knee length yellow converse, and she stares at Mr.Imura. Mr.Imura sets himself in a stance, and grins at the woman.   
“I wasn’t expecting you, Tisiphone!”

And then launches himself at the monster.

Eztli tries to get up, and runs away from them, he does. But his bracers are tight on his legs and Mr.Imura can’t help him as he throws punches and scratches at the monster, who screams  **“MURDERER”** and whips at him.

Eztli stares at his legs, crying softly as he realizes he’s going to have to take them off. He can’t run with them, and he knows that even though it’ll hurt more to have them off, at least he can just get away. 

Unsnapping the velcro, his hands shake as he’s trying to unscrew them as fast as possible. His hands shake, and he’s scared, but he has to.

Taking them off, finally, he stares down at his feet. He hasn’t seen them in months, and as he stares, he swears he sees flames licking the bottom of his feet. Ignoring his imagination, he stands awkwardly, feeling pain shoot up his legs.

But he can get around it. He can get around it if he runs.   
Behind him, Mr.Imura throws an uppercut punch, launching the monster across the field. There’s blood dripping down his arms, and he's breathing heavily.

“Almost… Almost, Just a few more…,”

He launches himself at her, throwing a succession of punches, making her scream and try to punch back. He ignores her, and grips her by the long blond hair.   
**“M--murrr--”**   
“Shut up,” 

Mr.Imura lifts his right hand, and with a wicked slash, takes down the woman. Eztli’s eyes widen as he sees a large puddle of blood open up underneath the monster. She screeches as hands wrap around her, and she’s sunk deep into the depths of the thick red liquid.

Eztli stares at Mr.Imura as he falls to his knees. His hands are shaking as he takes off the gloves, which transform back into the pink cutesy gloves. He slides off the large coat, and he stares at the little boy, who’s sobbing.

“Eztli… Eztli, come here,” He whispers, gripping his stomach as blood seeps into the floor. For a second, Eztli thinks that the blood looks gold, but it must be his imagination.

Eztli runs to Mr.Imura, ignoring the throbbing pain in the bottom of his legs. The man wraps his arms tightly around Eztli, and he sighs softly as he begins to sob and cry into his arms.   
“Mr.Imura. Mama is dead, and…. And you’re--”   
“Yeah… Yeah, I am, Eztli,” He coughs softly, and stares at the little boy. Gently, he puts the coat, now back to a leather jacket, into his arms. Eztli is too numb to realize that the things have transformed, and don’t look the same.

“T-take these, Eztli. Keep them safe in the Chthonic purse. You need to head… head towards the ocean,” His pretty brown eyes close and open, and Eztli can feel his skin start to grow cold.

“I-I can’t. I can’t lose you too, Papa--”

Mr.Imura’s eyes widen as he stares into his own. Swallowing thickly, he grips the little boy tighter, and presses a kiss to his forehead.   
“Ah… So that’s what that feels like,” He whispers gently, and laughs. Eztli shakes in his arms, and the man gently pets his head, and stares up to the early morning sky.

“The sun. He saw you. He will send help. But they know you’re here now, Eztli,”

In between Eztli’s arms, Mr.Imura starts to turn into a shower of light, gold in his hands. Eztli sobs and cries as Mr.Imura holds his face, and smiles at him, showing his dimples.   
“Find the boy with the nightmare blade. He will help you,”

Right before he disappears, Mr.Imura kisses Eztli’s cheek, and leaves him to cry at his ruined home.

* * *

It takes him days to reach the port.

The jacket on his body had changed its shape again. It’s still a pretty, buttery soft leather, but now it has a large moon on the back, with two quarter moons pressed on their sides. He swears that when he moves, it shifts and turns purple and black. 

The hoodie with the sheepskin wool always keeps him dry as well. And the gloves, which were once bright white with the bright pink hello kitty, have transformed to match the jacket. 

When he puts them to his face, he swears he can still smell Mr.Imura’s cologne.

His feet ache. They ache so much as he moves. He had tried to put shoes on, but his feet only hurt more, and instead, he went without. It hurts to step on twigs, and leaves, and rocks, but he has to move on.

“I have to get to the ocean,” He whispers silently to himself, fixing the white and red backpack. He sniffles to himself, sitting down at the base of a tree. Opening the bag, he looks into it, wiping away tears.

“Mr.Imura said it was a Tonic bag…” He whispers, and pulls out the things in there. Mancha is there, along with wipes, and toilet paper, a pink shiny notebook, a fluffy blanket, a large red plastic cup, and some money. Somehow, the necklace his mother had had made it into the bag as well. But, there, besides the baby wipes, he finds a little box with his favorite luchadores on there.

Opening the box, he stares inside and sees wrapped up squares that glitter gold in the sun.

Eztli’s eyes fill with tears as he opens the little bag. It is separated in tiny little bites, and he knows that he shouldn’t eat more than that. His mama had told him that medicine works like that. It doesn’t smell like anything, but as he puts it into his mouth, and chews the little square, a burst of his Mama’s cookies fills his mouth.

Sobbing, Eztli cries under a tree. For a second, he swears he feels the leaves caress his body, and the roots underneath him grow softer.

“Mama… Mr.Imura,” He whimpers, and grabs the red plastic cup. It pops like a soda can, and bubbles as he makes himself a cup.

That makes him cry harder. The liquid he tastes tastes like melon  _ agua fresca _ , and Eztli wants to lie underneath the tree and cry, and cry.

But he finishes his food, making sure he doesn’t eat more, or drink more, and licks his fingers. He cleans up and curls underneath the tree, feeling the moss tickle his nose, and press against his cheek.

He has to get to the ocean.

* * *

There are people everywhere.

It’s scary.

Eztli has never been around this many people. The people at the village had always avoided him, calling him  _ demonio  _ because of his different colored eyes, or the fact that his mother wasn’t wed before she had him.

The village hadn’t even been bigger than 20 people. Now there were so many people, so many languages.

He stares at the funny shapes on the doors, knitting his brows and wishing that his Mama had taught him how to read. Scratching his head, he realizes that he needs to take a bath. The sweat is itchy and gross in his long braids.

Sighing, he walks down the marina, avoiding the people that don’t look at him. He knows his face is covered in dirt, and he wishes he could say something to them, but he doesn’t think they’d understand Nahuatl.

His Spanish is still pretty rusty, and his English completely non-existent besides some words that his Mama would glare at, and the basic “What is your name?” and the “Do you accept my help” kind of words.

He grows close to the side of the ocean. Sitting down, he stares out towards the ocean, seeing two men chattering at his side.

One is fishing. He’s a big man, round and tan, with long shaggy black hair. From where Eztli is sitting, he can hear the deep thrum of the man’s voice.

Beside him, a man much taller and blonder laughs and flitters about him. For a second, Eztli thinks he sees him flying, with wings on his expensive looking shoes.

Eztli stares at them, but as the man with shaggy hair looks over to him, he startles and looks away.

He thinks he got away with it, until the expensive shoes appear before him. Eztli’s eyes widen as he slowly trails up expensive shoes, tan legs, runner shorts, and then to piercing brown eyes, that when he shifts, glitter like the sun.   
“Well. What strange eyes you have… They look familiar,” The man whispers gently, and Eztli scrambles to get away from him.

As he grabs his bag, and gets up to run, the man with shaggy hair is behind him. Unlike the man with expensive shoes, he’s squatted down in front of Eztli, staring at him.

Eztli has never seen green eyes. His left one is green, but sometimes it’s more brown than green. But this man has them both green.

“Hello there, Little One,” His voice is rich, and deep, almost like crashing waves. Eztli grips his jacket close to him, and he wishes he understood English.

“What is your name?”

Eztli doesn’t react to them, staring between the tall man, and the shaggy haired one. He doesn’t understand what they’re saying, and he wishes he did. Before he can run away, the shaggy haired one raises an eyebrow.   
“Nahuatl?”

Eztli stares at him, and shakes his head. The shaggy haired man smiles wide, showing Eztli a dimple, and sharp teeth. Humming quietly, the man hands him a piece of fish on a stick, and Eztli wishes he could say that he didn’t jump on it, but he does.

Eating only tiny pieces of the squares didn’t fill him up like food does.

The fish is delicious. It’s perfect crisp at the edges, and the taste of lemon citrus hits the back of his throat. He hums softly, licking his lips and fingers, staring up at the two men who look confused and scared.

“Where are your parents?”   
“A monster killed my Mama,” He says through mouthfuls of food. The men look at each other, and the tall man’s staff makes a noise.

“Do you have anyone?”

“No,” He whispers gently to the tall man, who leans towards his snake staff, and talks to it.

“Do you have a notebook, or something that can help you?” The man with green eyes says, and hands him another stick of fish. He doesn’t know where he’s getting them, but Eztli doesn’t really care at the moment.   
“Yes, in the Tonic backpack. Mr.Imura wrote some stuff on there, but I can’t read,” The little boy says gently, and the gasp that leaves the tan man makes him smile up at him, confused.

“Tonic backpack…” Pushing his fishing hat out of the way, the shaggy man’s hair falls over his shoulders. He opens up the backpack, and frowns at what he finds.

Pulling out the notebook, his eyes widen at the name, then he puts it back and stares at the small man.   
“What’s your name?”

Eztli looks up at them, his eyes glittering. He grins at them.

“Etzli Moreno. And yours?”

The tan man swallows audibly.

“Blood and Darkness. Your name means blo--”   
“Eztli, my name is Poseidon. Nice to meet you--”   
Eztli’s eyes widen and he throws his hands up. He flaps his hands and jumps up and down, grinning wide.

“You! Your name! I know your name from a dream!”

The man is stunned as the little boy runs up to him, dancing a little jig as he grabs his hawaiian shirt. It’s covered in horses and seaweed, and he smells like the ocean itself as he looks up at him.

“Can you help me find the boy with the nightmare blade! Mr.Imura said that I need to find him!”

The man softens gently, and bends down staring into his eyes. Eztli thinks that his eyes are the prettiest he’s ever seen. They look like emeralds, and his lashes reach the top of his lid.

“Me… Me and Hermes can show you the way. But we cannot take you--”   
“Why not?”

“We are not allowed to intrude on… Matters like this,” He whispers softly and the other man, Hermes, is talking to his staff again. It seems to be a heated argument, but Eztli is too busy looking up at the large man.

His is warm, and soft as Eztli holds him. He feels familiar, in a way he doesn’t understand.

“That’s okay! I know how to fight, and Mama always said I was supposed to do something cool when i got older!” The little boy shakes his head. He pulls back from the man, who gently pats his long braids, and stares at him with those pretty eyes.

“Here. I give you my blessing,” In his hands, he holds a large blue conch. As Eztli takes it, it transforms into a box, roughly the size of his palms. He knits his brows, and opens it.

Inside, he finds money. It’s not a lot, but enough for a small meal, from what he can tell. Beside it, he finds another little square of the yellow stuff, and 5 large, round gold coins.

They have a weird insignia on them. Like four curling squares turning around a flame.

He pulls one out, staring at it. The symbol is familiar, and as he holds it up to Poseidon, his face shudders for a second.

For a second, Poseidon looks different. With long curling black hair, and a long beard. The armor on his body looks old, and beautiful, and he looks regal.

But as Etzil blinks, the man in khakis and that ugly hawaiin shirt is back.

“I am going to give you instructions, okay? And you follow them as well as you can,” The man says softly as Eztli puts back the coin into the box, and sticks the box into his Tonic backpack.

“You are going to go back into the city. You take every left you find as soon as you get to Amarilla street. There, on the corner of that street will be a man with long black hair, and a yellow bracelet.

“Ask him for his bracelet. And when he asks you why, do not be scared, do not shake when he looks at you. Say this--”

The man pauses, and Eztli’s eyes are wide as he stares at him. The man smiles.

“In the name of Hades. I ask for safe passage to New York. In the name of Zagreus, I ask for your help,”

Eztli shook his head up and down, and the man smiled softly, putting his hand on his head. Hermes appeared next to him, and smiled down at the little boy.

“It seems, little one, that you showed up just in time. I was about to head out and talk to some people about you--”   
There was a deep resonating noise, terrifying and all encompassing, and both Poseidon and Hermes stood still. They blinked, and Eztli looked confused.

“W-well.. It seems that… The Fates don’t want us to meddle besides giving you our blessings,” He whispers gently, and the noise stops. 

“The Fates sure have been cruel to you, little one,” Hermes says, setting himself down on the balls of his feet, staring at the cuts and bruises on Eztli’s legs. For a second, he remembers how bad they hurt.

“I offer my blessing, young one. Here,” He opens his hand, and there is a feather there. As Eztli takes it, the feather shudders and transforms into a funny looking book.

When he looks at it, it glows, and the staff that Hermes has in his hands appears. There, on the screen, is a smiling person with horns and ears.

“I can’t read, Mr.Hermes,” He says softly, and looks up at the man, who winces.

“Exactly. Everytime you look at this, he will teach you how to read, isn’t that right, Grover?”

The man shakes his head, and looks at the boy.

“You have cool eyes, little dude.”

“I don’t understand English, I’m sorry,” Eztli says to the screen and the goat man frowns. But then he brightens up and pulls out a phone.   
“Give me just one day! Let me talk to one of my cousins down there in Mexico, and I'll learn his language Mr.Hermes!”

The screen glows black and Eztli looks up at him, and smiles.

“Will he teach me to read?”

Hermes grins wide as the little boy looks excited to learn.   
“Of course, little one. Though you might have to say a little hello to a sister of mine to learn anything else beside language,” He winks and turns to leave, waving him off as he walks away, fighting with his staff again.

Eztli is left alone next to Poseidon. The sea is calm, and silent around them, and he looks up at the man, smiling.

“What is there at the end of this, Mr.Poseidon?”

The man hums, looking off into the ocean and sighing softly.

“Family, my dear. I know you have lost yours, but you will find people like you. Your mother protected you, and loved you. And you will find people like you,”

Eztli stares at the man. He seems to know something, but he knows that the adults probably can’t tell him.

“When you get there. To New York--” The man whispers gently, leaning down to pick up his fishing pole. He taps it against the ground, and a large, bright blue trident glows and appears in his large palms.

“--tell Percy that I love him. And tell him that Paul and Sally are waiting on an answer on that BBQ,” He laughs softly and walks into the ocean.

“By Mr.Poseidon! Thank you!” Eztli says softly, and the man grins over his shoulder and sinks into the sea foam.

Eztli sits down next to the foam as it closes, and stares off into the Ocean. 

For the first time in days, he feels like he has an answer.


End file.
